


In These Hands I’ll Hide

by rabidchild67



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach needs to stop obsessing over Chris's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In These Hands I’ll Hide

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this prompt: http://pintokinkmeme.livejournal.com/1138.html?thread=381298#t381298 
> 
> Title is a lyric from the song _Old Skin_ by Ólafur Arnalds

Zach needs to stop obsessing over Chris's hands. 

Surely he can’t be blamed. They’re attractive: large, and square, and strong with long, thick fingers that are deceptively dexterous. Zach can’t get enough of watching him play guitar on those times he can be persuaded to bring it out, his fingers picking at the strings, running over the frets skillfully. He’s also watched him braid his niece’s hair, which: random, but his fingers practically flowed through the fine strands, before the toddler knew enough to squirm away, she had two perfect pigtails.

They’re strong, too, and capable. Zach has watched Chris tame the wilderness that had been his backyard into a lush and beautiful garden through the years, installing a new patio and water features himself, planting bushes and trees as the plan for the place that lives only in Chris’s head became a reality. 

A side effect of all that yard work is that they can get rough too, and dry. There is nothing Zach can say that will convince him to use moisturizer, nothing.

“It feels weird,” Chris says. “Slimy.”

“That’s because you’re using the wrong kind.”

In the winter, they’re even more rough, the dryness in the air making the skin more fragile and prone to cuts; Zach is always finding bloodied bits of toilet tissue around and sighing mightily. He does like to kiss the small wounds when Chris will let him, though..

Chris sleeps curled up on his side with his face cradled by his hand, fingers out flat, the heel of his palm nestled under his chin. The first time Zach witnessed this was on the flight to London on the first press tour, and he legit sat there and stared for like half an hour. Now that they’re together he gets to see it on a nearly nightly basis, and even though it makes him feel like a creeper, he still can’t get enough. It’s like some fucking cheesy 70s painting-on-velvet of small, impossibly large-eyed children, and it’s goddamned adorable. 

Zach loves the feeling of Chris’s hands on his body, touches large and small that are almost intoxicating. The way he’ll use gentle fingertips to turn Zach’s head to the side at just the right angle when he kisses him, or to guide Zach’s cock to his lips when he’s blowing him drive Zach wild. The feel of his broad hand on Zach’s shoulder when they’re running lines, at the small of his back when they’re out shopping, leaning on Zach’s bare chest, hard, as he rides Zach to orgasm.

Zach thinks Chris is beginning to get a clue about his obsession. “Why do you do that?” he asks one day, out of the blue.

“Do what?” Zach responds. They’re brunching at an outdoor café in the West Village; it’s early for brunch and there’s barely anyone around.

“Look at my hands like that – I’ve been noticing it lately.” He shoves them between his knees, hunching forward in his chair.

“I like them.”

“You like them.”

Zach nods. “Yes.”

“Why? 

“Haven’t you ever fixated on some detail on a lover before?” Zach asks, breaking off a hunk of the sweet cheese bread the waiter has brought them. 

Chris shakes his head no. “I don’t think so. I mean, they’re just my hands.” 

“Exactly. They’re _your_ hands.”

Chris’s frown deepens.

“Well, I love everything about you – your hands are only the latest thing to catch my attention. Last week, it was that cowlick on the back of your head. A month ago it was that patch of fuzz on your belly button.”

Chris colored – Zach had spent an inordinate amount of time down there, to both their satisfaction.

“You love everything about me?”

“Sure.”

“And by extension, me?”

“Of course.”

“Of course.”

Zach looks up at him, brows raised, expectant.

“I love you too.”

Zach smiles happily and then orders a Bloody Maria.

It wasn’t the most direct way he’s ever said those three little words to anyone, but Chris holds his hand through the entire meal, and he’s never been happier.

\----

Thank you for your time.


End file.
